143 thing like that just doesn't. But the sun was so bright everything looked too bright and quiet. And then I saw that all the cars were there, even Kenyon's old coyote wagon. Mr. Ewalt was wearing work clothes; he had mud on his boots; he felt he wasn't properly dressed to go calling on the Clutters. Especially since he never had. Been in the house, I mean. Finally, Nancy said she would go with me. We went around to the kitchen door, and, of course, it wasn't locked; the only person who ever locked doors around there was Mrs. Helm-the family never did. We walked in, and I saw right away that the Clutters hadn't eaten breakfast; there were no dishes, nothIng on the stove. Then I noticed something funny: Nancy's purse. It was lying on the floor, sort of open. We passed on through the dining room, and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Nancy's room is just at the top. I called her name, and started up the stairs, and Nancy Ewalt followed. The sound of our footsteps frightened me more than anything, they were so loud and everything else was so silent. Nancy's door was open. The curtains hadn't been drawn, and the room was full of sunlight. I don't remember screaming. Nancy Ewalt says I did- screamed and screamed. I only remem- ber Nancy's Teddy hear staring at me. And Nancy. And running. . ." In the interim, Mr. Ewalt had de- cided that perhaps he ought not to have allowed the girls to enter the house alone. He was getting out of the car to go after them when he heard the screams, but before he could reach the house, the girls were running toward him. His daughter shouted, "She's dead!" and fl ung herself into his arms. "It's true, Daddy! Nancy's dead!" Susan turned on her. "No, she isn't. And don't you say it. Don't you dare. It's only a nosebleed. She has them all the time, terrible nosebleeds, and that's all it is." "There's too much blood. There's blood on the walls. You didn't really look. " "I couldn't make head nor tails," Mr. Ewalt subsequently testIfied. "1 thought maybe the child was hurt It seemed to me the first thing to do was call an ambulance. Miss Kidwell-Su- san-she told me there was a telephone in the kitchen. I found it, right where she said. But the receiver was off the hook, and when I picked it up, I saw the line had been cut." TARRY HENDRICKS, a teacher of Eng- L lish, aged twenty-seven, lived on the top :floor of the Teacherage He Will he remain faithful to PBM? .,<'6-,.-' ; , '" : ''1... " . , ..'1 " .' , :"" 't.. " ,,' :, .' ..:- '" ' , '. .' '<> ', . . ^-t ':. -:t' . :. . ': i . t , . .' . . ' .' ." .... .:'. .': :.' ' .>:., t .:.. ' v' ">> -;,. '"" -::- ' , '. .. '. . . ;:< << r <:-' w( .\ ;: -'''At ,} . .>;,0; } . t '. ., =. . '.' ..' c" . .:: .... . :: -:: ; :: , t .. .:;. , " . > t J .. . " \ ,<( Oh, the temptations that confront a man in this vested suit! But he can carry off any episode with aplomb, thanks to PBM. This fine imported PIlI Transatlantique oxford weave worsted is more than a suit. . . it's an attitude that's altogether unmistakable in the presence it gives a man. Available at: M 0 R V ILL E -Philadelphia and other fine stores o >- 3: Q) Z (j) !U U -= Q) E .ex: <lJ ..c ...... Õ <lJ :J C Q) > ..;( a (J) (\J Q; 3: x !U f2 Q) ..c ë m (f) :J U c: (L